


Be Thou Well

by Raven_Knight



Series: 2018 Autumn OTP Challenge - Multifandom [11]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brothers, Brothers & Sisters - Freeform, F/M, Family Feels, Grief/Mourning, Recovery from Grief, finding happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 16:43:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16499039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Knight/pseuds/Raven_Knight
Summary: Joy comes again to Rohan's noble family on the occasion of Eomer's marriage to Lothiriel of Dol Amroth.





	Be Thou Well

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. This piece, archived at Archive of Our Own (Ao3), is purely a non-commercial work of fiction from which I am not profiting in any way. This work may not be reproduced, archived, or redistributed by any means and/or in any format without prior written permission from me. Permission may be obtained by contacting me at r4v3n.kn1ght@gmail.com. 
> 
> This series of oneshots belong to the 2018 Autumn OTP Challenge, though I have done away with the OTP part of it and focus instead on either romantic ships I ship or platonic relationships that fit the prompt given. I definitely took some liberties with the when and where and how things happen following the War of the Ring, so please just go with it and forgive any errors. This oneshot is in response to prompt #11: Countryside/Farm. ~ RK

**Be Thou Well**  
**By  
** **Raven Knight**

Weddings were supposed to be joyous occasions. Most in attendance for the celebration and revelries to follow found little reason for sadness, save one. Éowyn, the Lady of Ithilen, recently wed to Faramir, the new Steward of Gondor, stood alone at the burial site of her uncle, King Théoden. She had not returned to Rohan since she rode to Gondor to fight in the Battle of the Pelennor Fields and her subsequent recovery in Minas Tirith. Her brother’s marriage celebration and coronation compelled her to make the journey to the lands she’d called home, to Rohan.

Faramir, honoring Éowyn’s request to stand alone before her uncle’s resting place, observed her from the top of the hill where Rohan’s noble line had been laid to rest over many years. The wind whipped his heavy cloak about him and he drew it closer to ward off the chill. Footsteps sounded the approach of someone behind him. Five more steps brought the visitor to his side and the identity revealed. “Westu Éomer hál,” Faramir said.

Éomer, newly crowned King of Rohan, nodded in acknowledgement and acceptance of the words of his sister’s husband. “My sister has been instructing you on Rohirric customs.”

Faramir tried to hide his smile. “Not all, but those she feels most helpful and appropriate for the occasion of our journey.”

They observed Éowyn for a time before Éomer broke the silence. “Walk with me, my brother.” Without delay, Éomer turned and strode towards the Golden Hall of Meduseld, his seat in Rohan, with a discreet gesture to his guards commanding them to watch over and protect the Lady Éowyn in their absence. Faramir followed, though reluctant to leave his wife behind in her mourning.

Éomer led Faramir not to the Great Hall, but to the nearby stables. As he pushed open the doors, Éomer said, “I was remiss in not presenting her sooner.” Faramir frowned in puzzlement as he continued to follow his wife’s brother to one particular stall. Éomer clicked his tongue and smiled as a young horse approached his waiting hand. Faramir began to understand what Éomer meant. The King of Rohan spoke without looking at him. “She comes from Snowmane’s line, my uncle’s horse, but was too young to ride to war at the time. I wish for my sister to have her, to remind her of home and to comfort her when she should think of our uncle.” Éomer turned to look at Faramir. “Éowyn has seen enough sadness.” He stroked the young mare’s nose gently. “She is yours,” he said. “Though she deserves nothing less than a King.”

Faramir knew that Éomer was no longer speaking of the mare but of his sister. “I know this,” he admitted.

Éomer stepped away from the stall and stood directly before Faramir. “Be sure you treat her as nothing less than a Queen.”

Faramir met the gaze of the King of Rohan. “I swear it, Éomer King.”

Later, during the spirited Wedding Feast, Éomer observed his sister merrily teaching her husband the steps to some of Rohan’s traditional wedding dances. Despite the even mixture of stumbles and triumphs, Éomer thought it a relief to see Éowyn’s face alight with joy in Faramir’s close company. He turned to his new bride, Lady Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, and extended his hand. “My Queen, I fear we must rescue them from ridicule.” She smiled as she accepted his hand, and allowed him to lead her in the steps and culture of Rohan. As Éomer, that night outwardly exuberant and free of burdens, turned Lothiriel to the lively music, Éowyn’s long-missed bright laughter cheered the entirety of the Great Hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed it! Thanks! ~ RK


End file.
